Just a Milk Run
by Kajeera
Summary: A MegaCorp wants the tech from another MegaCorp and are willing to pay handsomely. They assure it's just a simple snatch n' grab; a milk run. There's no such thing.
1. Just A Milk Run

A/N: (Just realized I kinda forgot one of these, woops) I do not own Shadowrun or any Shadowrun properties. Copyright belongs to the proper owners. Characters are (mostly) mine (made with some help from friends). Please read/review, and have fun. I also apologize for my really bad accents.

The rain made a satisfying staccato against my jacket as I cut through the sea of tourists. They always crowded the rainy streets of Seattle, their umbrellas forming a pulsating sea of multi-colored nylon. The Runner's Rest was just around the corner, hidden under a lively club where the clients were almost as bright and loud as the inside. The Rest was a standard meeting place for those who worked outside the law, the only rules were that you had to take your fights outside and pay for damage. I climbed down the steps, the solid brick foundation blocking out most of the club's bass. Behind the reinforced steel door was just what I expected: a dimly lit room with what appeared to be a real oak counter along one wall and plastic tables scattered about the room filled with undesirables like me.

"Cutty-man!" The bartender always had to announce my presence. I shouldered my way to the scarred bar and took the bottle he offered.

"It's 'Carver,' Ivan" The beer had a nice tang to it, I'd have to remember it for next time.

"Da, da, vutefur hyu say, Slicer," The old Russian troll laughed at his own joke too loudly. "Vut can Hy be helpink hyu vit?"

"I need room 3B," I said taking a swig to wash down the horrible aftertaste, not remembering this beer for next time.

"Oho! Sumvun iz doink buzy-ness!" All of the backrooms at The Rest were used for business meetings, the 3 section being the fanciest. He set a key down in front of me. "Hyu know vere it iz, Slicer, get movink. Johnny's already zere."

"Thanks," I finished off the beer and placed the bottle on the counter, taking the key. It wasn't uncommon for a Johnson to show up early and prep the room, but this one was over an hour early. I grumbled as I unlocked the door to the backrooms. The earlier they are, the more serious the run and an hour probably meant I was about to help change Seattle.

I stepped in to 3B and the familiar faux-furniture greeted me, but no Johnson. On the fake mahogany table there was a small note, everything else in the room was the same. I cycled my eyes through the standard spectrum, heat, x-ray, infra-red, even UV. The only thing I got was a faint hint of heat off the note. I walked up to the table and picked up the crumpled paper, *Who just leaves a note at a meeting place?*

The yellowed paper crinkled slightly when I picked it up and unfolded it. In a close approximation to chicken scratch there were what looked like coordinates for a hotel not too far from here, a room number *(3B, haha)*, and a time: =1955.= My display read =1948,= I had seven minutes to get there.  
I bolted out the front door, throwing the key at the bar as my shoulder hit the door. I spun out onto the landing and looked up. There was a balcony just above me, perfect. I raised my right hand and launched it towards the railing, my hand trailing thirty feet of cord. *Everyone laughed when I had the harpoon mechanism put in my arm, who's laughing now?*

Using the momentum I had built up and the railing as a springboard, I jumped to the roof, thankfully the balcony was top floor. There it was: the hotel. I groaned slightly as I looked at the multi-colored rooftops I now had to run across and the various ravines between them I now had to jump. Clock read =1949.=

Steeling myself, I ran to the first edge and jumped, almost slipping on the rain-slick shingles as I landed. *Okay, that was way too close.* The other rooftops were much more manageable, I only slipped once more and had to use my hand to catch myself. =1953=

I jumped down into a crowd of tourists in front of the door and burst in. The lobby was a lot shinier than I expected. I ran down the nearest hallway and up the stairs two at a time. =1954= was the reading when I reached the third floor. Room B was right across the hall from the stairs and I knocked on the door.

"Another has arrived, it seems." A well-dressed human guard opened the door and stepped aside, letting me in. He didn't look to be too augmented, but with how expensive his suit looked he could get the concealed augs easily. Beyond him was probably the most ornate hotel room I'd ever seen. The center of the main room, in what turned out to be a suite, was occupied by a large redwood table surrounded by plush chairs. The walls were lined with shelves weighed down by ancient, leather-bound tomes. Sararimen blocked the other doors, except for the small kitchen and the bathroom. *At least I can still take a piss*

"So glad you could join us, Mr. Crenshaw." The voice was akin to something out of a nightmare, a children's cartoon, or both; high and squeaky and wavering. Definitely wouldn't forget anything this Johnson had to say. The person who had assaulted my ears sat at one end of the table, his shriveled old hands steepled against his chin while he rested his elbows on the table. His black suit seemed to be custom cut out of silk. The guy's shriveled face could have been elf, human, or something much, much older. *Damn, these guys are packing money if the Johnson is wearing still spendier clothes*

"Bout time! Can we get this show on the road already?!" The person wanting to know was an attractive looking human female with dark black hair with a small streak of bright green and a visor over her eyes. She was wearing a dark green windbreaker that seemed to be a few sizes too big and matching jeans. "I wanna get paid!" She returned to spinning her chair.

"Yes, Ms. Rilberg, let's-" The old man began.

"It's Railroad, old coot!" The woman slammed her hands on the table, stopping her chair. "Hit so fast, no one knows what happened, just like a train."  
"Ya, leaving a giant hole that lets everyone know what happened, just like a train." I finally registered the hulking ork figure in the chair next to her. He was wearing a set of dark gray, almost black, fatigues. "Name's Oneshot, I'm sniper cover for the op. This lovely lady next to me is Railroad, as she said. She's demolitions." As he stood up to offer me his hand, I noticed he was taller than me by half a foot, and bigger than most orks.

"Carver. Guess I'm muscle?" I shook his hand and sat opposite the woman, noticing the rifle case and duffle bag sitting behind the two. "Don't have any party favors of my own, sorry."

"That's fine, for now, Mr. Crenshaw. You're the infiltration squad, along with Ms. Rilberg. As he mentioned, Mr. Dowdy will provide cover and lookout during the operation." *So he has all our names, figured. This guy had his research done, guess I'm stuck*

"Mr. Lezonski, you may join us now." At his words an anthropomorphic toucan appeared in the chair next to me. *Holoprojectors, too, or did he hack my eyes?*

"Wassup, guys?" The toucan looked around at everyone sideways and waved enthusiastically. "I just go by 'Toucan.' Sure you all guessed that."

"Mr. Lozenski will be your hacker and virtual support. He will also monitor comm signals for the squad." The Johnson clarified.

"So, we don't need a wiggly-fingers for this op?" I asked. *Normally a Megacorp would have some magical defenses as well as physical. Guess we're not hitting one.*

"Mr. MacGrory should be with us soon." The old man said before closing his eyes and snoring lightly.

"Mr. MacGrory? Wasn't he a trid guy? The wizard that did the FX for all those old fantasy-style ones?" Railroad asked, pulling a deck of cards from her coat and beginning to shuffle them.

The eyes on Toucan's avatar freaked out momentarily before he said, "he is indeed. Best known for his work on 'Guns and Manabolts,' which was substandard in my opinion."

"That's just great!" By the way she said it, I don't think she thought it was all that great.

"What's wrong with wizards?" Toucan tilted his bird head inquisitively.

"...Nothing..." She muttered, shrinking in on herself.

"We had a bad one on a run once. She's still sore over it." Oneshot calmly explained.

"He was worse than bad! He... He did things... to the squad..." Railroad seemed to shrink into herself further at the memory.

"What kind of-" Toucan began before someone knocked on the door. =2002=

"That would be Mr. MacGrory, now," the old man was wide awake now and had seemingly not fallen asleep.

A dwarf walked in at that point wearing a seemingly expensive yellow suit and expensive it might have been, five years ago. He was short, even for a dwarf, barely coming up to the sarariman's lower ribs. On his face was a beard and not the type you see on most people, this was a full-fledged fantasy-dwarf beard composed of light brown hair.

"Diarnait MacGrory, at yer service." The little man declared, in what had to be a false Scottish accent, as he climbed into the last chair at the table. Railroad stared at him hard, her visor hiding her eyes. I imagine that they'd be full of hatred for the dwarf if we could see 'em. "Or, Magic-man as Ah've come teh be known."

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. MacGrory. Now," the old man continued as if nothing had happened, " the job is a simple retrieval run. An Aztechnologies lab is working on a prototype of particular interest to the one paying you. You will-"

"Aztech?!" Railroad exclaimed, "Isn't that a bit south from us, right now?"

"As I was saying. you will be flown down by way of private airliner, flown back in the same fashion, and then paid." The old man stared at Railroad expecting another interruption, but none came. "Very well, your ship will be departing at 0800 tomorrow."

"Sir, what's the pay like?" Oneshot asked as the old man got up.

"Should you succeed, the payoff will be more than enough," the old man answered as he began hobbling toward the door. I got out of my chair and cut him off.

"Digits, grandpa. How much are we getting?" Felt kinda bad bullying an old man like this, but I wasn't gonna do this run for anything less than 3K nuyen.

"10,000,000 nuyen if you must know. Each." The old man looked at me as my mouth dropped, a small smile playing across his lips. "Is that sufficient, Mr. Crenshaw?"

"Yes, uhh.. Quite, er, sufficient." *10 mil for a simple snatch and grab?! That's a lot even for a run against Knight Errant Security, not the media titan Aztech! Either this guy is loaded or we're all dead. Either way, they know our names so we're stuck in this.* I was shaken out of my reverie by one of the guards manhandling me out of the way and back into my seat.

The old man stopped at the door and turned to speak to us one last time before leaving, "All other information you will need will be found on the plane, or sent in Mr. Lezonski's case. 0800, don't be late." With that he left, taking his goons with him.

"So, what's the plan guys?" Toucan was the first to speak after a few minutes of silence.

"That'll depend on the rest of the information, Toucan," Oneshot said as he stood up. "My eyes are reading it as pretty late, and I haven't eaten yet. Let's go get some chow, Railroad. See you all later." Grabbing his rifle case, he maneuvered his bulk around the table and left. Railroad slid the cards into her coat pocket before grabbing her bag and hurrying after him.

"Food does sound good. Peace," With that the brightly colored bird disappeared.

"Tha' leaves jus' you and meh, laddeh" I don't know if Magic-man was trying to be friendly or not, but his raspy voice made that line way too creepy. I stood up and headed out.

"Nope, just you until tomorrow," I said over my shoulder as I walked through the door. After the door closed, I strolled down the hall and out of the lobby at a leisurely pace. *10 millon for a milk run?! There must be something else going on.*

I spotted Oneshot and Railroad next to a gray sedan having a heated discussion. *Whew, a relationship in this kinda biz? That's a baaaad idea.* I kept walking and headed to my favorite noodle stand.

"Cuttah-man! You want noodoes, yes?" Mr. Wong of 'The Wong Wok' was always excited to see returning customers.

"Carver," I corrected him, seating myself at the empty stall. "The usual, please. Extra soy, too. Where's everyone else?" Normally this place had at least a couple other lowlifes eating some of the only real food you could get in this town.

"They awh on wun. No come back, yet," Mr. Wong didn't sound too happy about this as he prepared my dinner. He had a lot of repeat customers that ended up not returning at some point.

"I'm sure they'll make it back here, Mr. Wong," Don't know if it helped, or if either of us believed it. We both fell into silence.

"Heah is you noodles, Mr. Cuttah-man," Mr. Wong broke the silence, setting a steaming bowl of noodles in front of me. "Thank you foh wepeat business, yes."

"Thank you for the amazing food," I really didn't want to tell him but as his longest customer, I had to. "I'm part of a run on Aztech. We leave tomorrow. I'll get some noodles when I get back."

Mr. Wong froze at the news; running on a MegaCorp wasn't easy but the money on this one was too good. Silently, he placed a small tray of sweet buns next to my bowl. "You come back, Mr. Cuttah-man, and you get flee noodoes fo life."

"I will, Mr. Wong. No way am I gonna die with free noodles on the line," I gave him my most reassuring smile and ate my noodles. He seemed to perk up at what I said, or at least he smiled. Neither of us said anything while I ate my meal. I left twice what the bill was when I got up and left.

My eyes read =2256= when I walked into my small apartment. I didn't live anywhere too special, really. The door opened into a small hallway, with a coat rack, that led into the small living room. An old blue couch occupied the far wall of the room, with an old tridscreen taking up the wall opposite that. The thing was built in, so I left it. In front of the couch was a fakewood coffee table flanked by matching chairs. Two doors led to the small kitchen that had a window to the living room, and the bathroom. I had to go through the kitchen to get to my bedroom, which only had my bed and a few drawers of clothes.  
I set an alarm for =0630= and packed a small bag with some clothes from my drawers and snacks from the pantry. *Shouldn't be down there too long* I checked my cybernetics for any wear and tear: none that I could see. I opened up my left arm to check on my Hushpuppy pistol: all good. Safe in the knowledge that everything worked, I took a quick shower and went to bed.

Next thing I knew, there were flashing lights and the whole world was shaking. After a short panic attack, I realized the lights were flashing =0630= again and again across my vision, and that my eyes came with a vibrate function for some reason. I blinked away the alarm and shuffled across my apartment to grab some pain meds. *I really need to get that vibrate taken care of* After taking care of my bathroom-based morning routines, I moved back to the kitchen and began a pot of coffee, glorious coffee. I got dressed while the soycaf machine was working it's magic, we finished at the same time. I drank my soycaf carefully, savoring the sensation of heat and energy flowing through me.

I finished my cup of liquid energy and my eyes read =0724= *Time to get moving.* The rendezvous wasn't too far away, but punctuality is important. The streets were full this early in the morning, so I decided to take the rooftop path like last night. The meet was supposed to be a warehouse, which struck me as an odd place for a plane. Sure, the long, straight road might make a good runway, but it's usually cluttered with trucks and cargo.

I came upon the designated warehouse with its door hanging slightly open, eyes read =0751= *Made it sooner than I expected.* I pushed through the doorway to see a large dual-rotor helicopter sitting in the otherwise empty warehouse. Oneshot popped his head out of the chopper's door and waved me over. *This isn't an airliner. Johnson's lied twice now, definitely not a simple milk run* I walked over to the chopper and climbed in.

The inside certainly seemed expensive, though. Couches ran along either side of the cabin, with a low table within arm's reach. Railroad and Oneshot were nestled against each other, taking up one end of the long couch. I slid myself down the opposite couch until I was even with the two lovebirds. My foot clicked against something under the table; it was a small, black case.

"You two let any of your gear spill over here?" That would be a lot of gear, since this table was quite wide.

"No, all of our gear is over there," Oneshot pointed to the duffel bag and rifle case from last night, laying on the ground at the end of couch.

"Besides, he left us all something, it seems," Railroad added before burrowing herself back into Oneshot's massive chest. "Left me a nice shiny new toy, and Oneshot here got a new gun."

"Huh, interesting," I commented, mostly to myself. *I wonder if this is coming out of our pay.* I opened the leather-bound case half-expecting it to blow up on me, or be completely empty. It was neither. Instead, inside the case was an intricately carved, bone-handled knife in a matching bone sheath. The sheath was beautifully carved into a dragon's head, mouth at the top, and the handle was carved into the shape of the great dragon's fiery breath. I couldn't help but whistle appreciatively when I saw it. Slowly I picked it up by the handle and hefted it experimentally. I couldn't contain a slight giggle as I discovered the knife was perfectly balanced for me. *Okay, I have to see the blade!* Reverently, I drew the flames from the dragon's gaping maw and realized that it was a vibro-knife. I gasped when I noticed that what I held could cut through almost any armor like it was hot synth-spread. I paused to admire the beauty for a few more moments before twirling the knife around to properly test the grip and balance. The grip felt like it was made for my hand no matter how I held it, and the balance remained superb. *This thing is amazing! I get this and the 10 mil?! No way!* I was brought back to reality by a giggle from across the table.

"Something funny, Railroad?" I asked, sheathing the knife and fixing the sheath to my belt.

"Oh, nothing," she said as she stifled another giggle fit.

"Stop teasing the man. You were the same when you saw your toy, remember?" Oneshot said, poking her side playfully.

"Stop that!" She managed to yell at him through laughter. "You know I'm ticklish, not fair."

"What'd he get you two?" I asked, noticing the other item in the case; it was a plain manilla folder.

"He got me a new rifle, nice and shiny," replied Oneshot. Not too surprised, really, that he got another rifle. "And a new set of drones, which is nice. My last set were getting kinda worn out."

"You'll see what I got during the run, Carver," Railroad followed with a mischievous grin. I knew it had to be something nice. *Probably a 'nade launcher, or something.*

"Now we just need Magic-man, right?" Railroad's face darkened when I mentioned the wizard. "Look, we're gonna need him for this run, you can geek him after if you want."

"No, I'm getting paid extra not to," Railroad declared and burrowed further into Oneshot's bulk.

"Extra naht te wot, lassy?" Magic-man popped his head into the chopper door. "Em Ah late?" He clambered in and scrambled onto the couch on my side. Curiously enough, his foot didn't touch anything. I shot Railroad a puzzled look. She returned it and shook her head slightly. "Wha' ar' ye two glancin' abou' fer?"

"Surprised you don't have a pack or something," I lied. "I thought wizards had to use components, or something."

"Ah see. Common misconception, laddy. Y'see, we onleh be usin' tha' fer story purposes." He pulled a collapsible baton out of a coat pocket. "Wands do help, though." At that point, a panel opened on the front wall; Toucan's avatar taking up half the screen, the old man's face taking up the other half.

"Now that we are all present, let's begin," the speakers did not help with the old man's voice. "You will all find a file folder under the table in front of you. Open it." I took the folder out of the box I had left it in and flipped it open. I was greeted with a picture of some device, it's location, and science jargon I didn't care about. I saw that everyone else had their folder's open with the same amount of interest, even the dwarf. "What you are all looking at, is Aztechnoloy's newest pet project. It is the first known fusion of magic and technology; one of a kind, as it were. My employer would very much like our R&D department to get their hands on it to see how Aztech has done this. Security will be tight, as you will see on page two of the folder" We all flipped pages simultaneously. *Professional, nice. Guy's just missing a trid-presi.*

"The second through fourth pages are maps of the facility where the device is currently stored. The red dots mark guards, the lines their normal patrol route." The first floor map was pretty red. "Red triangles are cameras and their field of view." Lots of triangles on the page. "Blue dots represent automatic gun emplacements, blue triangles are rocket emplacements. Mr. Lezonski will be handling those while the squad moves in." No blue on the first page, but the second page had blue lining the hallways and at every corner. *Holy fuck, what is this place? Even ARES isn't this heavily sealed!* "The target is on floor three, along the north wall. It is the golden cup." There it was, right where he said. Thankfully security wasn't any heavier up there.

"Boss, where do Ah fit' in?" Magic-man asked. "I d'na' see aneh magical barriers on th' map. Or in th' rest of the briefing, fer tha' matter."

"I was just getting to that." The old man smiled and I wished that he would never smile again. "The source we got this from could not detect magical barriers or determine astral security."

"So Ah'm goin' in blind?" Magic-man sounded like he knew the answer and wasn't pleased. "Grea'." He definitely wasn't pleased.

"Think of it as an opportunity to test your adaptability," I couldn't tell if the old man was being sarcastic or not. "I will now leave you to your planning, Mr. Lezonski has the rendezvous coordinates for when you retrieve the item. Your ride will be available to you for a week, should you take longer you will be on your own to bring the item back and you will not be compensated. Good luck." The old man's face disappeared and Toucan's filled the whole screen.

"Okay guys, what's the plan?" Toucan asked, cocking his head.

"Well, first let's see if you can actually get in to the computer," Railroad said, sitting up straight. "Next would be verifying our intel on the place; see if the old man was lying about anything. Can you do that and report back?"

"Yes, sir!" Toucan saluted with a brightly plumaged wing and paused slightly. "Er.. ma'am." Railroad chuckled slightly and waved it off.

"It's fine. Just Railroad in the future," she relaxed a bit, leaning against the back of the couch. Toucan's face vanished and she sighed. "I swear he's new to this... Magic-man, you and Carver will do a circle of the complex and see what magic defenses they have if any. Carver, look for any and all infiltration paths. We'll compare them to what Toucan finds. Me and Oneshot will look for nests for him to sit in while we run. Sound good, people?"

"Haven't disagreed with one of your plans, yet," Oneshot said, stretching.

"Seems good to me," I began looking at the maps we had, memorizing window and door locations. *I wonder if she's ever worked military or something*

"One question: who put you in charge?" Magic-man asked with an edge to his voice. *Better now than during the run, at least*

"She did, when she came up with the plan and divvied out tasks first," Oneshot replied, an edge growing in his own voice.

"Calm down, big guy," Railroad laid a hand on Oneshot's shoulder, her voice calm. "No one made me boss. We can change the plan if you have a better alternative."

"Nah, the plan's fine," He slumped against the couch.

"Good," Railroad nodded. "Now we just need to hear back from Toucan, or land. Either of which might take a while." So saying, she took out her deck of cards and began playing an old game I didn't know the name for. Oneshot pulled an H&K SMG from his case and began disassembling it. I continued studying the maps. Magic-man continued pouting.

"Okay, guys," Toucan's face appeared on the screen a few hours later. "I've gotten in to the point where I can see what's going on but I didn't want to go any farther just yet. They have a lot of ice around admin accesses, yet authorized non-admins can see all of the security. Ice looks standard, so it'll take time but I know how to walk around it. Other than that, the info looks good; you might even think someone handed the info over to him from inside."

"Good job, Toucan," Railroad said as she packed up her cards. "One more thing: how good are you at rigging?"

"Ummm... Well... I have the compatible software to do it, but I haven't done it on a run yet," Somehow, the bird-avatar looked ashamed.

"That's okay," Railroad slipped her cards into her coat pocket. "Think you can grab us a plain-looking SUV and run it like a non-runner filled car?"

"Should be able to, ya," Toucan said, seeming more confident. "I'll look at local dealerships and used lots to see if I find anything."

"Awesome. Remember, we don't want anything too flashy," Railroad reminded him. As Toucan once more disappeared to do his work, we all fell upon our routines.

A few more hours later, an alert appeared on the screen. "Dropzone-15min." *That was a quick ride.* We all began to pack up and gear up. I placed the folder back in the box and hoisted it in my left hand; good shield if necessary. Oneshot and Railroad put away their guns and cards and pulled out matching armored helmets, sliding them on and fixing them to something under their coat lapels.*Probably armor under those coats.* Magic-man pulled himself off the couch, where he had seemingly fallen asleep. *Guess we were too loud, or something.*

By the time we were geared and ready, the door we had all climbed through slid open. *Damn, this bird is smooth.* We unloaded from our ride one by one, with Magic-man taking the lead since he was closest, followed by me, then Railroad, and Oneshot picked up the rear. Magic-man and I unloaded rather casually, even though I was on edge myself. Railroad and Oneshot came out tactically, covering the door and each other with their weapons. Oneshot was wielding the SMG from earlier and it looked like Railroad had a matching one.

"Shit, we didn't look for a place to crash, did we?" I surveyed the surrounding area, my cyber-eyes compensating for the light from the setting sun.

"There's a cheap motel over this way. Follow me," with that, Magic-man started off towards a cluster of tall buildings surrounded by a sea of shacks.

"Damn, this place looks horrible," Oneshot commented, following the dwarf and putting his SMG into an at-ease position.

"Seriously, why would a 'corp build out here?" Railroad asked, flanking me and mirroring Oneshot's gun positioning.

"Because we're still a few miles from the actual ci'y the lab is in," Magic-man shouted over his shoulder at us. "We've landed on the fringe of Tenochti'lan. The major Aztech research facili'ies are about ten or fifteen kilometers away, give or take."

"You sound like you spent a lot of time here," I jogged forward to catch up to the dwarf.

"As Ah'm sure ye figured out, I used ta work fer Aztech makin' movies," replied Magic-man, his demeanor darkening. "Until some wageslave go' a few names mixed up and I go' canned."

"Personal run for you, then?" Oneshot asked, just behind and to the side of us.

"Vereh," he pointed at a flickering neon sign. "Tha's where we're stayin'." The indicated building was a tall, six storey, adobe building that looked like it had definitely seen better days. Neo-aztec designs covered the crumbling exterior, or at least where they hadn't fallen off, yet. "Dinn'e le' the outside fool ye, this place could survive a second Awakening."

The three of us following the dwarf shared a skeptical look but continued to follow. The front door was a heavy stone slab with colorful engravings of Aztec design. As we approached, the doors swung open of their own accord, and the view of the inside clashed with the outside facade. The furniture was bright and colorful, like a jungle meadow covered in flowers. Tall columns of stone shot up to the arched ceiling ten meters overhead with vibrant green vines carved and painted onto them. The vines continued down the sides of the ceiling, partially obscuring what looked like Aztec drawings. We made our way through this synthetic ruin to the front desk: an alcove seemingly carved out after the rest of the place was built. We purchased three rooms next to each other on the highest floor and headed up.

The Aztec designs carried throughout the building, even in the elevator. Our rooms were high up, so the elevator ride wasn't the shortest but it sure beat taking the stairs. The hallway beyond the elevator doors was similar to that of the columns and ceilings of the foyer; purposely antiquated with vines carved into it. Each door had a different picture on it on this floor, mine had what looked like a great feathered serpent, Magic-man's had a bird with a really long tail, and the door Railroad and Oneshot's room had a massive beast clawing it's way up from something.

The next few days went buy without much excitement. Toucan found an old beater with an old rigger setup that Railroad and I had to fix up. Magic-man didn't sense any magical barriers when we cased the place, and the map seemed accurate from what I saw. The only problem during prep-time was trying to sleep with the noises that came from the couple's room. After five days of preparation we were ready to run this place.

"Okay, everyone remember what they're supposed to do?" Asked Railroad over sub-vocal comms.

"Yup," I replied over comms, even though she was right there.

"Sit here all day and try not to let y'all die," Oneshot chimed in from his perch across the street. The complex was a squat three-storey structure that didn't fit in downtown Tenochtitlan, especially since it was surrounded by large empty lots on each side. I say empty due to a lack of buildings, they were actually full of work cars, delivery trucks, and a few bits of heavy machinery that Railroad and I were to use as cover to approach the building.

"Aye, Ah si' here on me ass an' try not te fuse te the buildin'," Magic-man was up next to Oneshot, keeping an eye on everything since we didn't need him to get past a barrier.

"Got the car ready a few blocks away, guys," Toucan's happy voice popped in, his face appearing in the corner of my vision. "I'm also into the security feeds which I will patch through to Carver and Oneshot." Shortly after he said that his face was replaced with a view of our intended entry point. The view was sweeping back and forth because it was a security camera and I counted three different guards moving through that one hallway. "Should have the turrets in a moment."

Railroad and I waited behind some wageslave's sedan. She kept an eye on the surroundings while I watched the guards. *This is going way too smooth.* A few minutes later, we hear a small exclamation of triumph from our hacker as an automatic turret materializes at each end of the hallway. I see a guard's face covered in confusion, then shock, as the turrets open fire on the guards inside. The camera is covered in a light layer of red as the guards turn into red clouds under the automatic fire.

"Dude! We coulda just clubbed 'em and tied 'em down!" Oneshot did not seem pleased by Toucan's actions.

"What's your problem?" Toucan replied. "I thought your whole job was killing people."

"When it's absolutely necessary," Oneshot took a deep breath. "Look, my rifle is loaded with stun so I just knock out the people chasing our people. If you check my record you'll find a lot of captures with few kills."

"Sorry man, but it's too late to be telling me this," Toucan honestly seemed sorry about this. *I'm running with weirdos.* I motioned to Railroad to start heading towards the building and we began ducking in and out through the parked cars. "I won't activate the other levels, but the guards on the third floor are gone."

When we got near the building, Railroad stopped behind a car and unslung her bag. She immediately pulled out a small device and pushed a few buttons. Gauging distances for a few seconds, she pulled her arm back and tossed the device up to the third floor. The device was of course an explosive and it detonated on impact leaving a large hole to the third floor. I walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her waist after she got her bag back on.

"Up we go," I said simply as I shot my hand up. It grabbed onto the lower lip of the hole and we ascended the side of the building. The cord shouldn't break under this weight, but the motors made a decidedly unhappy squealing sound during our ascent. Footing was a bit tricky when we got up to the third floor, since it was covered in human soup. Thankfully my hand reeled back in with no protest.

"Okay, we're in," Railroad radioed in. "Any other guards on this floor?"

"No, just some turrets I have temporary control of and some researchers cowering in a closet," Toucan calmly replied, his bird avatar looking strangely serious.

The two of us crept along, being careful of any changes that might have been made. I took point through the sterile white corridors covered in what used to be the guards with Railroad covering our rear with her SMG. As Toucan said, we didn't see another guard on our way through.

"Okay, gimme a sec," Toucan muttered to himself. A little bit later one of the doors along the hall popped open. I confirmed the location on my map; it was the right room. I opened the door slowly and peeked in. The room was empty on every wavelength I could check. It was one of the larger labs, a 30 by 40 space, with tools and datachips lying scattered on the equally scattered tables. The only table that seemed to be even slightly organized was in the rough center of the room.

I approached the table while Railroad watched the hall. The table in question was smaller than its counterparts and had an odd green box on one end. I flicked up an image of our objective and it was a close match. I grabbed the box and headed back to Railroad. She stepped back, opened her gear bag, took the box, dropped it in, and closed the bag back up.

"Mission accomplished," I said half sarcastically.

"Not yet," Railroad chuckled. "We still have to fight our way out, remember?"

"Oy, ye tuu migh' wanna ge' a move on," Magic-man's voice came on and seemed worried. "A barrier jus' popped up, an' it looks nasteh." *Oh, that's why he's worried.* Railroad and I exchanged glances before speeding toward the hole we came in.

"Can you drop it?" I asked, my cyber limbs more than a match for keeping up with Railroad.

"Ah can try, laddie, but I cannae promise anythin'," Magic-man replied uncertainly. The comms became filled with a low chanting in a language I didn't even want to try and identify.

"Hey guys, I did some perusing to try and find any record on our prize," Toucan's face appeared in my vision. "Looks li-e t-y w-e tr-yi-g to -tr-l t-e b-. W-t's go-g -n? -'m l-ng si-al! B- ba-." His avatar was replaced with static.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," A well-tanned, muscular man replaced the staticky portrait. "Please tell me you didn't think this was gonna be that easy. Did you?" The man mocking us was wearing nothing on his torso and a brightly colored feather headdress. "Don't worry about your friend, we didn't ice him, just took over his signal. That means the guns are ours again. If you don't want to be pureed like our guards, please put what you took back."

"Sorry, but we have a contract to fulfill," Railroad replied.

"We do, but we respect your guns and property and will return it right now," I hastily replied as the guns began popping out of the walls. Railroad gave me a strange look and I hope I gave her one that said I had a plan. She sighed and we began walking back to the lab room. The path was still clear, but you could see employees peeking through the windows with big smiles on their faces.

We got back to the room just fine, but I was a bit nervous. I hadn't done anything like what I was about to do in years. Railroad unslung her pack and set it down between us. I opened it and began pawing through the gizmos in there, even though the box was on top. After finding something that would work, I motioned Railroad over as if I couldn't find the box. With both of us hunched over the bag I flicked out a small blade and began opening the box. It looked a like a standard storage box, only it was green and covered in strange symbols. I carefully peeled the adhesive back while Railroad made a show of searching through the bag.

In the box was a bizarre amalgam of wires and metal and... flesh? Certainly looked like tattooed flesh was pulled tight over certain areas of the device. I slipped the weird thing into an inner pouch of the backpack and placed an explosive in the box. Railroad had set the high-yield explosive for only a few minutes, so we'd have to hurry out without drawing further attention. I resealed the box and held it up so the cameras could see it.

"Took you long enough," The muscled man sounded pleased to have his device back. Sucks to be him, I guess. The whole ordeal had only taken us a minute. "Put it back where you found it and leave."

We did just that. I set the box on the center table while Railroad put her pack back on. Sharing a momentary look, we began calmly walking back to our entry point. The turrets had receded but the inner windows were all filled with researchers smiling and jeering the failed 'runners. I couldn't help smiling at the thought of this place in three minutes.

Besides the researchers in the windows we had no trouble getting back to our hole. Two minutes. I grabbed onto Railroad and slowly winched her down. When she hit dirt I let go, grabbed onto the hole and lowered myself. Minute and a half. We began walking towards where our rigged car was said to be parked. Our getaway car was an old yellow van that seemed to almost be turn of the century, probably a retro model. Oneshot and Magic-man were already waiting for us. Thirty seconds.

"Well, we can't really return to the Johnson without the dingus, so what do we do?" Oneshot asked, defeat and anger touching his voice.  
Railroad dropped her pack into the back of the rental wagon and pulled out the device. "We go to the Johnson and get paid." As she said that, the timer reached zero on our bomb. Where we had just been, where all the jeering researchers were, was replaced by a bright flash of light and a huge wall of fire. My ears adjusted themselves so all I heard was a soft popping noise, but the shockwave was enough to send bits of debris jumping and skipping across the street.

"Hey gu-s," the staticky image of Toucan reappeared. " My ma-n sys-em is f-ied, so - have to us- my ba-kup. It's n-t as go- so I'm go-a be cu-t-ng in a-d ou-. I di- fin- out w-at th- de-ic- is, be-o-e I g-t bo-ed. I-'s bas-al-y a b-g wh-s-le."

"Wait, a bug whistle?" Oneshot's voice raised in pitch slightly. "I ain't a fan of bugs, so is it the deterrent kind or the attraction kind?"

"It's th- co-tr-l ki-d," Toucan replied, as serious as he could be through the static. "Th-re we-n't exa-t de-ai-s, so I'- n-t qu-te su-e. Re-eva-t n-tes we-e pr-b-bly ke-t ha-d cop-."

"Well, we kinda blew up the lab, so can you still run the car?" I asked, piling into the van. I didn't much care what the device did right now, I just wanted out of Aztech's gaze ASAP.

"So-y, no," Toucan answered. "Th- pr-gram th-t le- me ru- th- -an is -n my f-ie- ge-r. I'm u-el-ss fo- n-w."

"Null sheem, omae," Oneshot squeezed behind the wheel, destroying the bits of the rigging setup he couldn't move. Railroad clambered into the passenger seat while Magic-man and I climbed into the back. After the doors were closed, Oneshot shifted us into gear and drove off at just above the local speed limit.

"Okay Toucan, send us the rendezvous point and let's leave this place," I said. *This was still way too easy. It feels like just a milk run but nothing is ever just a milk run.* Toucan shot us the coordinates for the rendezvous and Oneshot drove off, probably following a GPS overlay on his eyes. There were no complications getting to our destination, which turned out to be another warehouse with the same dual-rotor helicopter waiting inside.

"Gu-s, we sh-ul-'t ha-d thi- th-n- -ver," Toucan's avatar reappeared, still skewed by interference. "I'v- be-n t-ink-ng ab-t wh-t I -ead, a-d t-is de-ce c-uld -o s-me se-io-s da-ag- in th- wr-n- h-nds."

"Ya, but we're being paid way too much not to hand it over," I told him. "Besides, what would we tell the old man? 'Sorry, but our hacker had a bad feeling you guys were evil and would take over the world with this thing you're paying us to steal?' Look, if they do anything too major with it, another 'runner group is probably gonna be hired to stop them. Or maybe by Aztech to steal it back." I hopped out of the van after Oneshot parked and walked over to the chopper.  
The inside looked the same, only this time I was the first person in it. I moved down to my spot on the couch, the lovebirds resumed their position, and Magic-man slid in to where he had sat on the way down. Toucan's distorted avatar filled the screen.

"It was mighty easy though," Oneshot said after we had all been sitting there a few minutes. "Maybe this is a bad idea after all."

"Look, I'm anxious about this thing too," I said, "but this is probably the largest payoff we're ever going to see." I sighed heavily. "Look, after we get paid we can steal the thing back, so ka?"

"No, not really," Railroad said. "In case you forgot, he has our names. Our real names. We can't be the ones that rob him." She had a point.  
"M-yb- we h-re a-oth-r tea- to s-eal -t b-ck?" Asked Toucan. "W-ul- b- w-ir- f-r a ru-ne- to b- a Jo-so-, bu- th-s wa- we -e-p ou- n-mes c-ean a-d st-ll g-t -aid."

"Bird's got a good idea there," agreed Oneshot. "We pay them standard fee of a few thousand each, they steal it or slag it, and we keep a ton of nuyen ourselves."

Everyone agreed this was probably the best course of action, even Magic-man. It was decided that Railroad and Oneshot would handle things after we all split since they knew a few more fixers.

Mr. Johnson was waiting for us when we landed back home.

"I take it you have the device?" His old face had a small grin on it.

"Ya, it's right here," Railroad unslung her backpack and pulled out the device. It was glowing with a slight pale-green color now. Something told me we'd need to hire as team ASAP before that thing did whatever it was supposed to. One of Mr. Johnson's guards immediately took the device and placed it in a sealed container large enough to fit it's original with similar runes. A second guard handed us each a datachip.

Upon slotting the chip I saw the agreed upon amount and transfered it to a handful of smaller accounts. After slotting his, Magic-man walked off in one direction while Railroad and Oneshot walked off in the other. I pinged Railroad and Oneshot to wait up and jogged after them.

"What is it, Carver?" Railroad asked, clinging to Oneshot's side. I sent them both my public comm code.

"If you ever need something cut up, give me a ring," I said, walking alongside them a bit.

"Sure thing," Oneshot said. I got comm codes for both of them. "Likewise."

I walked with them a few blocks before turning towards the Wong Wok. Time to get me some noodles for life. Maybe I'll get that vibrate in my eyes dealt with tomorrow.


	2. The Wong Hive

A/N: I do not own Shadowrun, just (most of) the characters used.

Moira: Thanks for the review! Hope you're not disappointed this is the end of the arc.

# The Wong Hive #

It was the middle of lunch rush when Mr. Wong got a call. The aging Oriental man sighed as he remembered the comm code of his old fixer, George. Moving over to begin preparing the newest order of beef lo mein, he answered the call. An ARO appeared in Mr. Wong's concealed cyber-eyes of a young elf.

"Hey, Hivemind!" The elf looked maybe 24 even though he should be closer to 64. He had a spiraling tattoo weaving its way over his face and shifting colors. "Look, I know youse is outta da biz an' all, but I gots a Johnny-boy here lookin' fer only da best and youse is da best rigger I know. They told me that youse was gonna get a big payoff, too. Meet's at da Runner's Rest at 10 tonight. See youse around, 'Mind."

Typical George, bugging the elderly and not waiting for a reply. Even though he did it before leaving for work in the morning, Mr. Wong did a mental diagnostics of his cyber leg and two cyber eyes. He shuffled around, going about his noodle business like nothing was different. Ten was after he normally closed down so there was no problem there, but what was so important he had to be pulled out of retirement. He groaned both at the thought of this job and how heavy the side of beef he just lifted was.

Expertly twirling his knife before cutting up the beef, he began checking out the status of his drones. The spy flies were still working fine and were keeping an eye on The Wong Wok and surrounding area. His four ARES heavy assault drones were sitting safely in his van, though one of them still needed a new leg. Tossing the now diced beef into a skillet, he started waking up his spider drones one by one and running thorough individual diagnostics on all eight of them. Everything seemed okay. Last to check was his van.

"Heah you aw, Mr. Cuttah-man," he said with a smile as he slide the lo mein in front of Carver, a heavily cybered street-sam that had earned free noodles through repeat service not too long ago. He still paid, though.

"Thanks, Mr. Wong," Carver replied, busying himself with his food.

The van told Mr. Wong that nothing was wrong, except that it could use a light cleaning. Everything reading as ready, Mr. Wong proceeded with his daily business as if he wasn't about to be dragged back into the shadows. All told, today had been a profitable day, yet not too busy. As nine o'clock rolled around, The Wong Wok was closed down and folded into a small box that was loaded into the van by way of a small crane in the back of said van. Climbing into the driver's seat, which was more like a La-Z-Boy recliner, as was the passenger seat, Mr. Wong pulled up an ARO to drive his van. The van itself was reminiscent of the old VW busses but a little larger as this model was designed to sit a couple trolls next to each other. Doubled up armor plates comprised the walls with a chameleon coating that currently showed an animated koi pond. Armored tires crunched over various bits of refuse as it rolled towards the Runner's Rest.

Descending the steps to the Rest's reinforced door, Mr. Wong was glad the meet wasn't in the upstairs club; he didn't have an ear for whatever the kid's listened to these days. Opening the heavy door with plenty of grunts, he was surprised when he didn't see Ivan behind the bar. Wading through the sea of metahumanity, the meter and a half Mr. Wong approached the bar.

"I am heah foh Johnson meet," Mr. Wong shouted over the noise at the young troll bartender.

"Only one's in room 3C, grandpa," the troll reached under the counter and produced a key. "Not for taking naps or dying of a heart attack." the troll handed over the key. Mr. Wong just glared as he took the key, knowing that fighting about his effectiveness at his age was pointless. The path to the back rooms was clearer than the one to the bar.

Room 3C was one of the fancier rooms used for business here, even though it was still furnished with fake wood. Sitting on the other side of the fake mahogany table from the door was a human woman with black hair that had a bright green streak through it. She wore simple, dark-green combat fatigues with a visor over her eyes. Behind her stood a hulking ork figure in matching fatigues, only there was no visor covering his obvious cyber eyes. She appeared unarmed, although he had an obvious H&K heavy pistol on his hip. Around the table on similar fake mahogany chairs was a young elf Mr. Wong didn't recognize and an old troll that he did.

"Squassy-man!" Mr. Wong exclaimed at seeing his old running partner. "It has been faw too wong." He took the seat next to his old friend.

"It vould not be so long, if yoo vould stop by Rest vunce in vile," Ivan chuckled as his old friend sat next to him. "How is noodle business doing?"

"It is good, velly good," Mr. Wong bobbed his head. " Now, what is so impoatant that you have to poe peopoe out of retiahment?"

"Da, vut is all zis about, vit pulling avay of ze bartender?" Added Ivan.

"Gentleman, if you will wait a moment, we are expecting a few more," Ms. Johnson replied. "It appears you two know each other, Hivemind and Hammer. Not too surprised considering your records. The fellow you don't know goes by Sylph."

"Thank you Ms. Johnson," Sylph said, nodding his head. The quality of his clothes spoke of money, as did the ivory handled pistol sitting in a shoulder holster he wore. If it wasn't for the holster and the handful of piercings he had, Sylph would look like the world's first millionaire hippy. "I do, in fact, go by Sylph when running the shadows. Perhaps you gentleman have heard of me? The greatest elf wizard in Seattle?"

"Niet," Ivan replied after thinking for a short while. "Proabably much too big for small place like Rest."

"Oh, I assure -," Sylph began to say.

"Too big of liar," Ivan interrupted. Him and Mr. Wong began laughing at the troll's joke.

"Hey, Squassy-man, you rememboe the wast ehf we wan wit?" Mr. Wong asked through his laughter, smacking Ivan's shoulder.

"Da!" Ivan exploded into a new fit of laughter. "He... He... 'Suka go splat! Bahaha!" The big troll doubled over in his chair, shortly followed by Mr. Wong for much the same reason.

"I... I don't get it," Sylph declared, sounding confused and a little hurt. "What's so funny?"

"I think they're laughing at your ego there, Sylph," replied Ms. Johnson, the edges of her mouth curling into a small smile. Sylph crossed his arms and began pouting. This elicited a new burst of mirth from Ivan and Mr. Wong. After a few minutes, the laughter subsided and the door swung open.

The person that walked in was a tall, curvaceous woman wearing tight, black leather pants and a burgundy corset. Black, skintight boots molded themselves to her sculpted calves with a simple burgundy line along the top. A short black coat sat on her shoulders and hung open at her sides, the long sleeves flaring slightly with a matching burgundy line. She had dark red hair that framed her feminine face. Her eyes were covered by a pair of dark sunglasses. Attached at various points on her body were knives of varying sizes, each one with a black polymer grip.

"Oi hope Oi'm not late fer this li'l soiree, am Oi?" She asked in a slightly watered down New Zealand accent. She sauntered over and took the chair next to Sylph. Her motions combined with her clothing invited the eye to watch her curves.

"No, not at all," replied Ms. Johnson, the only one not pulling their jaw off the floor. "In fact, we should be getting one more here soon. Gonna take those shades off? We are inside, after all."

"Ah you?" The newcomer asked with a sly grin.

"No," Ms. Johnson grinned in return.

"What do we call such a beauty?" Sylph asked, barely managing to look away from her body.

"Dahlin'," she replied.

"Yes?" Sylph asked, a small smile forming on his face.

"Aww, ahn't you jis the cutes' thin'?!" The woman exclaimed, pinching his cheek. "Moi name is Dahlin', lovah boy." Sylph crossed his arms and returned to pouting while a blush creeped into his face. Ivan and Mr. Wong began chuckling. Darling leaned back in her seat, laughing softly. "No hahd feelin's, Oi hope. It was jis so easy." Sylph continued glaring at the floor.

"Well, Darling," began Ms. Johnson. "The elf you've just embarrassed runs by the name Sylph. The troll goes by Hammer, and the Oriental gentleman is Hivemind."

"Oi heard abou' you two. Though' you blokes doied though," Darling said, a bit confused.

"Da. Ve fehk it," Ivan said, still chuckling slightly.

"Yes, we fake ouah deaths 'cuz we get oad!" Added Mr. Wong. "Velly easy wetioe when dead."

"Da. Zen old fixer find us again," Ivan added, grumbling. "Least he not dumb enough to be calling constantly."

"It does suck when someone finds your dead body isn't dead, doesn't it?" Everyone visibly shuddered at the sound of the new voice with its crisp, British accent. As one, they all turned to see a slim figure standing in the doorway. This figured strolled towards the table, grabbed a chair, spun it around, and sat down. He was wearing a long leather coat and a pair of wraparound sunglasses that contrasted with his pale skin almost as much as his short, black hair. The shirt he was wearing was the color of pure darkness, with a high collar, and sleeves ending just below the elbows of his cyber arms. His plain slacks and shoes matched his shirt. The only visible weapon he carried was a small pistol on his hip.

"Fang, I presume?" Asked Ms. Johnson, recovering from her earlier terror.

"Indeed," the figure replied. "I was told this was important, so what is it?"

Darling scooted her chair a bit closer to him, and smiled innocently. "Woooow, stroight ta business. Oi loik tha'." Fang turned his head and leveled his sunglasses at her. She grinned a little wider and turned her body so he'd have a slightly better view.

"That's all fine and dandy," he replied. "But I really don't care." He turned back to look at Ms. Johnson, looking more than a little bored. This caught Darling off guard as she reeled back in her seat like he had hit her. Sylph once again had a look of utter confusion on his face while Ivan and Mr. Wong both continued to chuckle quietly.

"W- Wot did you jis' say, mate?!" Darling demanded. Fang sighed and turned to face her once more.

"I. Don't. Care," he said each word slowly and clearly. "I'm here for a run, not to flirt. Besides, you're too loud for my tastes." He turned back to Ms. Johnson. "Again, what are we doing?"

"Well, you'll be stealing something," Ms. Johnson began, cutting off Darling's reply. "Or destroying it, as need be." With a motion from Ms. Johnson, her bodyguard produced five folders and handed them out.

"This is a device that a team of runners stole from Aztech," she continued. "However, after reading the notes on it, the team decided that they didn't want anyone to have it so they contacted me and told me that someone needs to steal it back or destroy it. You do not need to know what it does, only know that it is a dangerous device and you will be compensated for removing it from the hands of its current owner. The folder possesses everything we know about the owner and his current location. Payment will be 20K, 3 up front and 17 on completion. There is a slight stipulation, though."

"Vot might zot be?" Ivan asked, looking over the contents of the folder.

"No killing," Ms. Johnson replied with a straight face. Everyone in the room except for Mr. Wong looked surprised, Darling dropped her folder.

"Wo'?!" She almost screamed. "You hiah a team of assassins and tell them no' ta kill anyone? Ah you mental?"

"My associates would prefer this remain a blood-free operation," Ms. Johnson said evenly. "I'm hiring a team of assassins because I said I needed a stealth team and all the skilled thieves are busy, it seems. Now if you'll listen, the actual stipulation is this: if I hear that a guard has been killed or seriously injured by your team, I'm cutting 2K off your pay. If I know exactly who did it then I'll only cut their pay. Everyone clear?" She received a chorus of reluctant affirmatives. "Good. Contact me when the device has either been retrieved, or destroyed." With that, she got up and left. Her bodyguard followed close behind.

"So, who ver zey, 'Mind?" Ivan asked, still looking at the folder contents.

"They wah two wunnahs that stoe the device in thah fost pwace," Mr. Wong replied without looking up. "Nothing moe that was weawwy usefo, though."

"Got zot bit," Ivan said, lowering his folder and looking at Mr. Wong. "Nuhsing useful? Seriously?"

Mr. Wong nodded at Ivan, not looking up from his folder. Although, if anyone looked, his eyes were darting around while he did some more research on the information they had been given. Darling also appeared to be staring intently at her folder, but anyone could see her eyes darting around, as well. Fang just sniffed absently and looked at the paper.

"Okay, ouah Mistah Johnson heah is not acsually paht of copowation," Mr. Wong said after a few minutes. Ivan huffed slightly like this wasn't surprising, but both Sylph and Darling looked at Mr. Wong as if he had slapped them. "Looks like he is pawt of bug coat twying to take ovah thah pwace. Look like theiah pwans ah to stawt with Chicago."

"How didjoo foind tha' so fast, grampa?" Darling asked, sounding slightly insulted.

"Simpoe, image search his face, find on offisoe site foh bug coat," Mr. Wong replied, eyes still darting around. "Entiah scheduoh on theah, like no one take them sewiouswy." Darling raised her folder to cover the color rushing to her cheeks. "Now, the weal fun stuff is wheah he lives."

An ARO appeared for the group above the table. It was a wireframe view of a ten-storey tall apartment complex. Looked like each apartment was maybe four meters by six meters and three meters tall, with the smaller side opening into the hallway. There were fifty rooms per floor, arranged along two parallel hallways with a conjoining hallway at one end. Stairs were located at each end of both main halls. One of the rooms in the green wire frame was filled solid red on the seventh floor.

"Zat is target?" Asked Ivan, seemingly disappointed. "Why say no kill guards if no guards to kill?"

"Good point, Ivan," Sylph agreed, resting his chin in his hand as he put on AR shades to see the diagram. "Maybe there are guards in the neighboring rooms, or something?" Almost all of the other rooms filled with a sickly green color.

"These ah aw the wooms wif bug coat memboe," Mr. Wong said, eyes still darting around. "Does not look like they have tech secuwity."

"Okay," Fang spoke up. "I'll sneak in through his window and see if the device is there. If not, I'll grab any relevant information."

Sylph sighed, "sounds good to me."

"Don' sound so enthusiastic, thea' Sprite-y boy," Darling said, smiling. "Oi thoink it's a brilliant plan! Oi will, of coa'se, be provoiding backup." She beamed at Fang, who didn't seem to notice or care.

"I'll be vaiting in van vid 'Mind, I guess," Ivan said, still sounding sad he wouldn't get to hit anything. Mr. Wong sent everyone the address.

"My van onwy has woom foh me and one othah, and it looks like Ivan has taken it," Mr. Wong said as he got up. "It on othah side of town, so we hit tomowow, ya? Say, thwee in aftonoon?"

"Sounds good to me," Fang said as he left.

"Sure!" Darling rushed out after him.

"I'll go over to the place tonight and check for anything magical and report back to you," Sylph said, walking out of the room. "Least make myself useful, somehow."

* * *

They all met down the block from the apartment in a small park at three the next day. Sylph had detected some minor magical residue, but nothing that read as dangerous.

"So, are we all ready?" Sylph asked, sounding annoyed. Probably because his whole role was to sit on a bench and keep a mystic eye open. He didn't even seem to notice that Darling was wearing tight shorts that showed off her legs while hugging her hips.

"Cheerio and all that," declared Fang as he headed down the block. Darling ran up to him and wrapped her arms around one of his. Everyone paying attention could see him visibly sigh. They looked like the strangest couple in all of Seattle. He had on his leather coat and a large hat to match while she wore her shorts, a very tight halter top, and the coat and boots from last night.

"You smell noice today," She said, leaning against his arm since he was slightly taller.

"So do you," he replied, not really sounding interested.

"Thanks!" She beamed at him, silently high-fiving herself for another man under her power. "Oi use a citrus-"

"You're AB- right?" He asked while they approached the alleyway next to the apartment complex. She faltered slightly.

"Wha?" She stared at him blankly.

"Your blood type is AB-, right?" He asked again, looking at here. "That one's my favorite." He stared at her with his dark eyes, seemingly soulless eyes. She let go, wondering what type of man he really was. He laughed at that, a deep laugh. "I'm only joking, jeez! What do you think I am, a vampire? That would be ludicrous!"

She laughed at his joke and slipped into the alleyway ahead of him. "Almos' had me theah, mate." She pulled out some gecko-gloves from her pockets and put them on.

"Why do you need those?" He asked, pointing to a rain pipe leading right next to their targeted window. She tossed some hair out of her face and walked over to it.

"Don' wanna callous moi han's, jis' got a mani," she said, wrapping her hands around the pipe and beginning to climb. Fang followed along beside her, scaling the wall with his seemingly bare hands. Darling huffed when he passed her and shifted to scaling the wall with her gloves like he was. She had been hoping to force him to look at her ass during the climb up; this one was proving to be a challenge for her.

They scaled the wall easily enough wile Mr. Wong pulled his van up to the curb. It now had enough space for everyone since he left his drones at his apartment. The window was locked, but a few quick words from Fang had it open itself. Inside the apartment was meticulously cleaned. Both of the burglars searched around, doing their best to stay quiet. He didn't find anything going through the old man's personal possessions, or business documents. She, however, did find what they were looking for. In the refrigerator. The package was a dark green box with darker green symbols scrawled all over it. Surprisingly, it felt room temperature. Darling pulled out the box and showed it to Fang.

He walked over and closed the fridge door, staring at the box. Shrugging, he grabbed the box and cast a quick invisibility spell on himself. She knew that he should be heading for the window, and headed there herself when her shin connected with the coffee table in the middle of the room. Darling cursed quietly to herself, straining to hear if anyone noticed. After a few tense moments, she decided it was clear and climbed out the window. Anyone inside would have had a wonderful view of her legs as she slipped out. As it was, Fang, the only person who might have seen, was already outside and ready to close the window. A few short words from thin air and the window closed and locked itself, again.

Darling walked out to the van and opened the door before turning to look at her surroundings. Fang took this opportunity to climb in and drop his spell, appearing on the far bench with the box. She climbed in, closed the door, and sat right next to him. A thought passed through her mind of draping her legs over his, but that was cut off by Ivan yelling from the front.

"You have box, yes?" The troll called from the front of the van, turning around in his seat.

"Ya, we got it, ya big lug," Darling responded, regretting not being able to fully work her magic on Fang. "Now quoiet daun befo' everyone hea's you." Mr. Wong pulled away from the curb and picked up Sylph from the park.

"So, ping Ms. Johnson and get paid, ya?" He asked, sitting across from Darling. He tried not to look at her legs, which were now crossed right in front of him.

"Aweady on way to meet," Mr. Wong said, reclining in the driver's seat. The designated drop off point was an old warehouse across town. Mr. Wong was careful not to attract unwanted attention as he navigated the streets.

The same Ms. Johnson was waiting inside the warehouse with the same ork guard. "That was pretty fast of you guys," She said, holding out her hand for the box. Fang walked up and handed the box to her. As she grabbed it, a look of confusion settled on her face. Carefully, Ms. Johnson opened the box and threw it on the ground. The box smashed to bits and everyone saw the remains of someone's packed lunch scattered around the impact site. "You brought me his lunch!?"

"Interesting," was all Fang said, staring at what looked like a PB&J sandwich.

"Interesting?!" Ms. Johnson screamed at him. "They still have a device that can control the bugs, and you think this is 'interesting?!'"

"We' it kinda is," Mr. Wong added, eyes fixated on the sandwich. "Why would they use containment box as wunch box?" Sylph smiled and opened his mouth.

"You see," Fang began, cutting off Sylph. "If the box was a pure containment vessel, it would keep the cold in better than a standard lunch box." Railroad stared at the two men with a blank look.

"That's all fine and dandy for you two!" She exploded. "But we need this thing and we need it now! Go find it and bring it back!"

"If it's not in the box, they're probably starting to use it," Sylph chimed in. He walked over and picked up the sandwich, biting into it thoughtfully. Almost immediately he spat the food back out and dropped the rest on the floor. "Mayo! Who put's mayo on a PB&J? Disgusting." Railroad blinked a few times in surprise.

"If they're starting to use it, then we have bigger problems than how much mayo this guy eats," she said, trying to regain composure. "How about this: I will not reduce your pay for the first guard you kill, and only reduce it by five hundred for each guard?"

"Deal," Fang growled, grinning.

"Agreed," Darling said, her face set beneath her shades.

"So, 'Mind, vere are zey?" Ivan looked at the Asian man. Mr. Wong's eyes were dancing around. Even if everyone else could see what he was doing, no one could probably follow it.

"Found his PAN," Mr. Wong said, shuffling quickly towards the door. "We go now!" With that, everyone ran outside and piled into the van. Mr. Wong climbed into the drivers seat and started driving off towards the outskirts of Seattle.

After an hour of driving through the horrible Seattle traffic, Mr. Wong's van pulled up in front of a warehouse further down the coast and much closer to the ocean. You could smell the brine where they had met Ms. Johnson, but at this place it hit you full in the face. Sylph gagged when he climbed out of the back of the van. Everyone else just stared at the old brick building that needed serious repairs.

"Anothah wa'ehouse?" Darling asked, sounding exasperated. "Why ah all these cults in bloomin' wa'ehouses?"

"Because, Princess, they're cheap," Fang replied, checking the magazine in his light pistol. Darling turned on him, the blade of a knife at his throat.

"No one calls me 'Princess," She fumed. "Go' i'?"

Fang just chuckled at that and headed for the decaying warehouse.

"Vot is plan, 'Mind?" Ivan asked, doing a quick check of his arms.

"Weah, it depends on whethah the othahs wisten to me," Mr. Wong replied. He flicked his eyes and a hatch opened up in the top of the van. Four assault drones climbed out and hopped down. A handful of smaller drones skittered back and forth across the surface of the assault drones.

"Oi'll leisten," Darling said, eyeing the drones. "Though, we seem ta be missin' Fang."

"What's the plan?" Sylph asked, checking his pistol's magazine.

* * *

The shadows would have been dark, but Fang saw just fine. He saw the guards on top of the warehouse, could hear them radio in about the intruders, thought he could smell blueberries. The door wasn't a problem, in fact by how easily it opened one might think it was unlocked.

Footsteps down the hall caused Fang to slip into an open door and unlatch his fingertip. He released a short bit of monofilament wire out, letting the weight swing a few feet below his relaxed hand. Sighing slightly, he reeled his fingertip back in and latched it as he recognized the footsteps and the scent. He stepped out of the doorway and caught the anticipated knife in his hand.

"Doan' pop out a' people like tha'!" Darling scolded him. She walked over and took her knife back, the usual sway absent from her hips.

"Wouldn't have to if you kept up," He replied. noticing that she had zipped up her short coat.

"Oa' eif yew had stayed an' leistened to the plan," she huffed. He rolled his eyes and began walking down the hall again, somewhat glad to have her scent near him. It reminded him of a time earlier in his life.

"So, what's the plan, -Princess-?" He asked, emphasizing his new nickname for her.

* * *

Damn it all! She hated that name, but it sounded so good when he said it with that accent.

"The plan was fo' meh to foind yew an' thein we snick through the place," Darling said, resheathing her knife. "Thein we foind the theing and breng eit out ta 'Moind. Heh's offah'd paht of heis pay ta covah fo' the goonies weh keill."

She had to try not to swoon when he grinned at that news.

"Oh! Oi almoast fo'go'," She put her hand out towards Fang. Sitting on it were a handful of spy-fly drones. "Heh wants thes oan us. Ta kip track of us." He looked at them for a short bit before reaching out to take them. When his hand came into contact with the drones they jumped up and crawled over his hand and over his body, settling down at various locations.

"What purpose does this serve, again?" Fang asked, looking slightly annoyed by the bugs.

"Supposedly, heh ken track us in 3D weith thes," Darling responded, trying not to smile when he spoke. After giving her a skeptical look, he began walking down the hallway again. She followed, a slight spring in her step.

* * *

Sylph wandered the halls by himself. He was wondering why this particular warehouse had so many darn halls. Probably because it was a bug cult and they wanted it to feel more like a hive? Sounds about right, considering how cheap these walls look.

He could swear he's been at this intersection before. After consulting his AR shades real fast and Hivemind's map, he quickly proved himself correct. He didn't know whether he should be glad because he was right, or upset because he just went in a circle. In the end, he just turned a different way in a mood to shoot something.

* * *

"Hey, 'Mind, I sought ze whole point of team vas to be staying together?" Ivan asked, checking his rifle for the third time. Ivan and Mr. Wong were to stay outside and keep anyone from escaping. Really, Mr. Wong just wanted the company and to test the new runners. His drones could handle anyone trying to flee.

"It is, Squassy-man," Mr. Wong replied, yawning. "But we do not know how effective the next genawation is in combat. So we test them." He wiggled a little, making himself more comfortable in his chair while he checked his drones, cameras. No movement.

"I hope more be running," Ivan said, sighing. "The vuns on roof vere no challenge."

* * *

A new smell hit his nose, and he couldn't quite describe it. All he knew was that it was worse than onions or spinach put together. Along with the new smell came the sounds of soft chanting. Fang was quietly relieved, since it felt like he had been walking around in circles for the past fifteen minutes. The scent of Darling made it a bit more manageable, though.

"We're getting close, Princess," He said softly, unlatching his fingertip again. Shadows enveloped his form as he crouched and began sliding along next to the wall. If Darling hadn't seen him hide, she probably would have lost him. As is, she readied a knife in one hand, a pistol in the other, and followed his example.

* * *

Darling thought that he really needed to stop talking if she wanted any hope of focusing on the objective. She had to admit that she was starting to become attached to his new name for her, as he had continued to use it while they walked. She also had to admit that she was glad he had taken point, since it gave her a better view of his cute butt.

Her gaze was pulled away after a few corners by him stopping suddenly. Around the next corner came a light. Fang flitted around the corner and she stepped up to peer around. This particular hallway only had one door, a simple aluminum one, and a sickly green light was spilling out around it. At the far end, she could see Sylph peeking around the corner.

Silently, she followed behind Fang as he snuck towards Sylph. He got around behind Sylph before coughing slightly. Sylph's eyes bugged out as he nearly jumped out of his skin. Darling had to resist the urge to start laughing, managing to keep it down to a small chuckle. She stood up and let the shadows slide away as she sauntered towards the panicked Sylph. His blushing face become even redder.

* * *

This is not my day, Sylph though to himself as he tried not to watch Darling's swaying curves. First, they get the wrong package, then he gets lost in this stupid artificial hive. After finally finding the right place, that creepy freak, Fang, pops up behind him out of no where and makes him almost scream in panic. To top it all off, Darling was walking towards him with a smirk on her face that meant she knew he was under her spell and found it funny. Hopefully soon he'd get to light something on fire.

"Don't you know it's not nice to sneak up on people?" Sylph asked. He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked too much for that. His eyes also struggled to leave Darling's body until she stopped. As soon as the hips stopped swaying, Sylph tried to turn and glare at Fang, only to find him missing.

"Yes," breathed the voice of death right next to his ear. "But it's so much fun." Sylph could hear the sadistic smile as Fang spoke. He quickly jumped away, skin crawling and knees shaking slightly.

"H- How about y-you two circle around and make sure this is the only door?" Sylph stammered as blood slowly returned to his face. Darling chuckled again, softly.

"Thet's no' a bed oidea," Darling said, pointing down the other hall. "Wei haven' gone dan theis hall. Toothy, take poin'." Fang nodded, his face becoming the blank mask of business again.

* * *

Ivan poked Mr. Wong softly in the ribs again since he had fallen asleep. For the fourth time. The old man barely moved as he swatted at Ivan's large, cyber hand.

"What?" Mr. Wong groggily asked, "Why you wake? Dwone's ah pwogwammed to know what do and is bowing aht heah." He settled back into his seat, preparing to fall asleep for the fifth time.

"Da," the Russian replied. "I know is boring. Is too boring!" He sighed and continued reading a story he had pulled up.

* * *

Half tempted to let Darling take lead just so he could walk in the trail of her scent, Fang crouched and began following the wall again. Darling followed, only half paying attention to the hallway. After a few feet, the shadows has enveloped them completely. Their circuit didn't take too long, and Fang didn't see any hidden passages or notice any strange scent spikes.

They found Sylph braced against the wall, next to the glowing door. Fang could swear that the sickly green light and the horrible smell had both gotten stronger during the few minutes they took to check for other doors. He decided this wasn't a time to keep messing with the elf since he seemed pretty nervous. Darling's face had that usual smirk and he motioned that her usual tricks would be a bad idea right now. She frowned at him, but nodded. He thought her face was actually kinda cute when she pouted like that.

They both straightened up and stepped around the corner in plain view so they wouldn't startle Sylph. He looked over as they rounded the corner and visibly sighed in relief.

"The magic in the area has gone up drastically," Sylph said, his voice high and tight. "Whatever they're doing is going to finish soon."

* * *

Still upset over the fact that she couldn't mess with Sylph right now, she had to suppress a shiver and a smile when Fang grinned. She was about to finally see him in action and couldn't wait. Darling cleared her throat, trying to maintain an appropriately business-like appearance.

"So, do weh went a plen," she asked, drawing a pair of sharp knives. "Oa' ah weh jis' gonna run in thair an' keill 'em?"

"I'm fine making it up as I go," again, she had to fight and keep the smile from her face when Fang spoke, especially since his voice had taken on a darker tone. Sylph nodded and took cover next to the door, hand on the handle. Darling took the other side while Fang stood right in front of it. He pulled out a small ball and wrapped a short length of monofilament wire around it. Grinning slightly, he nodded to Sylph, who threw open the door.

* * *

It was all a blur for Sylph. This was the first time he'd dealt with something that had such a strong passive aura. The first time he'd dealt with something that just felt so wrong, too. His heart was pounding in his chest, ears thudding with the force, as he threw open the door.

With a flick of his wrist, Fang sliced the ball cleanly in half and tossed the two halves in. Seconds later, a thick wall of dark smoke billowed out of the doorway while he strolled right in. Sylph shared a quick look with Darling, his face was one of shock and confusion while hers was one of excitement and interest. Twirling her knives, she rushed in after Fang. After a few heart-pounding seconds and a number of bodies dropping to the ground, Sylph finally decided to breach the room with his team mates.

He entered the room and covered it with his pistol as the smoke began to clear. Instead of a fight, what he saw in front of him was a number of half-clothed old men of varying metatypes lying on the group in varying degrees of dismemberment. The oppressive aura was also dissipating. Fang flicked the blood off of his monofilament whip and reeled it back in while Darling wiped her knives on a relatively clean bit of cloth.

Darling stood up, sheathed her blades and sauntered over to Sylph.

"Thenks foh theh heilp, stud," she purred, gently caressing his cheek while she walked into the hallway. Fang merely chuckled at Sylph's increasing blush as he picked up the strange artifact, which was glowing a faint sickly green. He slipped the device into one of his large coat pockets and strolled out after Darling.

* * *

Ivan had almost finished his story when Mr. Wong sat up and looked toward the far end of the building. Walking towards them were their three team members. The back opened up when the three got close and they piled in.

"We have the device," Fang said calmly, eying Darling curiously as she leaned against him.

"End Seilph heah took ou' aallll eigh' of 'em!" Darling declared, leaning forward slightly, opening her coat back up. Sylph was about to protest but began stammering incoherently when Darling winked at him. Mr. Wong and Ivan both chuckled. After all the drones were loaded up, they drove back to the warehouse where they were to deliver the device.

* * *

Ms. Johnson was waiting in the same spot with the same body guard when they arrived. Someone had cleaned up the shards of the container and the scattered lunch, though. There was also a small duffel bag sitting at her feet.

"Got it this time?" She asked exasperatedly, holding out her hand. Fang walked up and placed the device in her outstretched hand. She smiled as she saw the device. At a motion from her, the bodyguard dispersed credsticks to the team. Everyone saw the full amount when they slotted it.

"You may want to back away a bit," she said, reaching into the duffel bag and pulling out a small explosive. She attached the explosive to the strange device and tossed it to the far end if the warehouse. Everyone from the team took cover behind Mr. Wong's van while she detonated the explosive remotely. The only thing left was a black smear on the ground where the amalgamation had been sitting.

"So, na wut?" Darling asked, holding on to Fang's arm. For once, he didn't seem to mind.

"I have noodoe caht to wun," Mr. Wong replied, climbing back into his van. "I can give Squassy-man a ride, though." Ivan shrugged and squeezed into the driver's seat. The van headed off towards the Runner's Rest. Fang and Darling wandered off in the other direction. Ms. Johnson left through a staff access door with her bodyguard in toe. Thinking that Seattle wasn't the best place for him, Sylph decided to head towards the airport and a return to the Tir.


End file.
